


Mixology with Husk: Hurricane

by dorklordliz



Series: Cooking with Alastor [5]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorklordliz/pseuds/dorklordliz
Summary: Husk decides to create a mixed drink while a drunk Alastor mopes at the bar
Series: Cooking with Alastor [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650406
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Mixology with Husk: Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided that Alastor likely knows Cajun French :D  
> When I make this drink, I do not measure anything and use more rum than the recipe calls for. I looked up the measurements to give readers an idea for how to recreate but again, play with it and adjust it to your taste.  
> As a reminder, these characters are not mine.

It was late in the evening and the hotel lobby was empty of unfamiliar faces. Light from passing cars would creep through the windows and flicker off a feline face. He glanced at the other sitting at the bar and observed how he stared into his glass. A large fuzzy red eyebrow shot up in thought as he began to count what number drink the seated man was on. He gave up counting at eleven. Despite the unmoving toothy grin, the drinking behavior told him otherwise. “Rough day eh?” the feline asked. He waited for a response for a few seconds only to realize he was not going to be offered one. “Congratulations, now you know how it feels to see your ugly ass daily.” He watched the other sure that the statement would rile a response. Still nothing. Deciding that making conversation was useless, he bent down to look at his selection.

The red clad demon glanced up as the other moved out of his peripheral vision. “Whatever you have bent over to grab, you better get a beaucoup of it.” 

“No, no more for you,” the feline said as he stood holding an unopened bottle of amber rum. “I want you gone so I drink in peace without seeing your Cheshire grinning ass.”

“Fils-putain,” the grinning man said as he brought his attention back to the glass. 

The feline massaged his temple with his free hand as he placed the new bottle on the bar counter. “What? Okay, no never mind. I don’t want to know. Go mope somewhere else.”  
No response or sign of moving was offered.

“Look Alastor, whatever this is, its creepy. Go the hell away.” He rolled his eyes after accepting that the other was not going to leave he decided to try making him uncomfortable enough to leave. “Your drinking like you’re trying to erase the memory of seeing Angel anal gaping.”

The toothy grin faltered a little at that statement as disgust spread across his face. “Oh no no Husk. I don’t wanna see anything that guepe has to offer.”

The feline was becoming amused at the sight of the other struggling to avoid using a dialect that was well hidden when sober. “Oh I know what that is. Yea, he is a little bitch huh?” Husk then began to open the bottle of rum.

“Hmm,” was all that Alastor offered to Husk. The sound of the seal breaking on the bottle pulled his attention. “Oh Hussskersss. I have an envie for something with that there rum.” 

Husk decided that the company of a drunken deer demon wasn’t nearly as bad as he first thought since he was getting to witness a side of him that was so well hidden. “Based on what your fucked up ass sounds like, I know what might take you back. I got to visit a place once while traveling and I barely remember shit about it, but I remember the drink and the piano room.” He reached to grab two tall glasses. “You were from the south huh? You got a bit of a drawl going on that you trying to hide.”

Alastor offered no answer but simply stared at the other.

“Right, so I remember pestering the guys that dragged me there to find out how to make it. It was apparently very popular,” he said as he reached for a cocktail shaker. “You want a hurricane? It is almost as good as the original,” the cat demon stated as he dug out the grenadine. 

“Whatever makes you happy, minou,” Alastor said trying his best to not slur.

Husk rolled his eyes as he placed the can of passion fruit juice on the counter. “Hey, go to the kitchen and grab some sugar. Make sure its very fine. I don’t keep limes here since all of you fuckfaces just want straight liquor, so grab limes too. If there are no limes, a lemon can work too. Oh, and cherries and oranges if you want it fancy.”

Alastor slid off the stool to grab what was requested of him. He wasn’t gone for long and set the items on the counter next to the rum, juice, and grenadine. “Now what the shit is this gonna taste like,” the accent was thicker now that he became too dizzy from standing to concentrate. He grabbed the bar counter to pull himself back into the stool he left just moments ago.

“Good,” Husk claimed as he poured the rum into the shaker. While Alastor was gone, he had found measuring spoons that he had forgotten about. He took 1 teaspoon of sugar and dumped it into the shaker and dug for a measuring cup. 

Alastor hummed to himself as he watched Husk. He overheard him say something about not being able to find a damned measuring cup. Alastor tapped the counter to pull Husk’s attention to him and then snapped his fingers to have the missing measuring up appear on the bar counter. “I keep it in the cabinet above the sink,” he said with this normal toothy grin but with mischief in his eyes.

Husk grabbed it and poured about 1/4 cup of passion fruit juice into the measuring cup before emptying the cup into the shaker. With the sugar, rum, and fruit juice in the shaker. He covered the top and began to shake it to dissolve the sugar. Once he was satisfied with that, he took the grenadine and measured 1/2 teaspoon to pour into the shaker. The lime was grabbed next and he cut in half and squeezed half a lime’s worth of juice into the shaker. He grabbed a spoon and stirred. “O’Brien I think the name was,” he said as he dumped some ice into the shaker before covering it to shake. 

Alastor’s eyes widened at the name. “Once knew a speakeasy owned by a man with that name.” He watched as Husk poured the liquid into the two glasses. “Storm’s brewin,” he said in a low voice and a soft laugh followed. 

Husk didn’t comment on Alastor’s statement because he was bringing his drink to his lips now. 

“What’s the cherry you told me to get for?”

Husk placed his drink down and grabbed a single cherry to drop into the other drink meant for Alastor. “Ta-da, fancy. Now try the shit,” he said dryly.

Alastor hesitantly grabbed his glass and took a small sip. His eyes fell into the glass after tasting it and seemed to be deep in thought.

Husk was getting ready to make another since he had practically chugged his. He noticed that the other demon wasn’t as enthusiastic about drinking it as he was. “If you don’t like it, give it to me.”

Alastor shook his head, “No, Ti-Pat must have came up with this after my time. The flavor wasn’t what I was expecting.”


End file.
